The Unusual Suspects (The Sisters Grimm, Book 2)

Despite her delay tactics, Sabrina was actually looking forward to her first day of the sixth grade. School offered her something that Granny Relda's house didn't—normal people. She would be surrounded by dull teachers and glassy-eyed kids, watching the clock tick slowly, and she would be as happy as a pig in mud. When you lived with a flying boy and the Big Bad Wolf, a little boredom was welcome.

Sabrina had even planned how her first day would go. She would melt into the crowd and do her best not to draw any attention to herself. She wouldn't join any clubs or raise her hand, but would drift through the day like an invisible girl. She would find some kids to befriend and they would sit together at lunchtime and maybe pass notes in class. Just like normal kids. It was going to be one long, dull, happy experience.

Unfortunately, Smirt was ruining Sabrina's plan. It's hard to be just another face in the crowd when you're being dragged down the hallway by your ear. Not that it was entirely Ms. Smirt's fault that Sabrina was getting attention. Even after three vigorous washings, the girl's hair was still full of goo from Puck's booby trap. It stuck out in a thousand different directions like a hungry octopus. Daphne, on the other hand, had sculpted her hair into an old-fashioned beehive style that spiraled high on her head. Inside the sticky tower, the little girl had inserted several pencils and pens, a ruler, a protractor, two gummy erasers, and a package of peanut-butter crackers for later. By the time the girls got to the principal's office, Sabrina was sure every kid in the school thought that Ferryport Landing Elementary was now enrolling escaped mental patients.

"Excuse me, I'm Minerva Smirt from the New York City Department of Child Welfare," Ms. Smirt said, pounding impatiently on a bell that sat on the counter of the school office. Two middle-aged secretaries were busy spraying bug spray at something in the far corner of the room. The one with the thick glasses leaned down and smacked whatever it was with a magazine, while the chubby one stomped on it like an Irish folk dancer.

"I think it's dead," the chubby one said as she bent over to get a better look.

Smirt rang the bell again, and the two women looked at her as if she had just come in with a flamethrower.

"I'm in a hurry," the caseworker said. "I need to enroll these two orphans."

"We are not orphans!" Sabrina and Daphne said. Ms. Smirt pinched them each on the shoulder for arguing with her.

The bespectacled secretary crossed the room and snatched the bell away. Once she had tossed it into a drawer, she looked up at the caseworker and frowned.

"I'll see if our guidance counselor, Mr. Sheepshank, is available," she said as she eyed the children in bewilderment. Shaking her head, she stepped over to a door and knocked on it lightly.

"Sir, we have some new students ... I think," the secretary said, turning back and eyeing the girls' odd hairdos.

"Yes! Yes! Please bring them in," a happy voice called. The secretary ushered the trio into the office and closed the door.

Mr. Sheepshank was a little man dressed in a green suit and a bow tie with smiley faces on it. He had a round, full, friendly face with freckled cheeks as red as his hair. When he smiled, little wrinkle lines formed in the corners of his glittering eyes.

"Good morning, ladies. I'm Casper Sheepshank, your school counselor," the man said cheerily. "Welcome to Ferryport Landing Elementary."

Mr. Sheepshank took Ms. Smirt's hand in his and shook it vigorously. The caseworker blushed; and she did something Sabrina had never seen before: She smiled.

"I'm Minerva . . . Minerva Smirt from the New York City Department of Child Welfare," she said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the guidance counselor replied. "And who are these lovely ladies?"

"Introduce yourselves, girls," Ms. Smirt said, giggling.

"I'm Sabrina Grimm," Sabrina said. Sheepshank seized her hand and gave her the same joint-jarring treatment he had given to Ms. Smirt.

"I'm Daphne Grimm," Daphne chirped.

"Grimm? You wouldn't happen to be related to Henry Grimm?" the counselor asked.

"He's our dad," Sabrina said.

"He went to school here with us, too," Mr. Sheepshank said. "I remember him quite clearly. He was always getting into trouble. I assume I can expect more of the same from the two of you?"

Unsure of how to respond, the girls said nothing. After a long, uncomfortable pause Sheepshank chuckled and winked at Sabrina. "Just a joke, ladies. Your father was a model student."

"The girls were in my custody for a year and a half until we placed them here in Ferryport Landing with their grandmother, Relda," Ms. Smirt explained. "Unfortunately, Mrs. Grimm has not taken their educations seriously and they've been out of school for a month."

"Better late than never." The counselor laughed as he pulled some paperwork out of a desk drawer, and began to write.

"Casper," Ms. Smirt said, unbuttoning the top button of her shirt. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I didn't warn you about these two. They are quite a handful. I tried to place them in good homes more than a dozen times, and each time it ended in chaos and grief. Nothing was ever good enough for them. They ran away from one foster home just because they were asked to help around the house."